The Paradoxes of Feminist Chronology and Activism in Contemporary Poland
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Journal of International Women's Studies Volume 4 Issue 2 Harvesting our Strengths: Third Wave Article 9 Feminism and Women’s Studies Apr-2003 Lost between the Waves? The aP radoxes of Feminist Chronology and Activism in Contemporary Poland Agnieszka Graff Follow this and additional works at: http://vc.bridgew.edu/jiws Part of the Women's Studies Commons Recommended Citation Graff, Agnieszka (2003). Lost between the Waves? The aP radoxes of Feminist Chronology and Activism in Contemporary Poland. Journal of International Women's Studies, 4(2), 100-116. Available at: http://vc.bridgew.edu/jiws/vol4/iss2/9 This item is available as part of Virtual Commons, the open-access institutional repository of Bridgewater State University, Bridgewater, Massachusetts. This journal and its contents may be used for research, teaching and private study purposes. Any substantial or systematic reproduction, re-distribution, re-selling, loan or sub-licensing, systematic supply or distribution in any form to anyone is expressly forbidden. ©2003 Journal of International Women’s Studies. Lost between the Waves? The Paradoxes of Feminist Chronology and Activism in Contemporary Poland By Agnieszka Graff1 Abstract The complexities of Polish gender politics can be conceptualized as a series of paradoxes. Until recently, Polish feminists had deined the very possiblity of a Polish women’s movement. This article argues that Polish feminism resists the chronology of “waves”: it uses styles and tactics characteristic of the third wave (irony, high theory, camp, cross- dressing, etc.) to achieve typically second wave aims (reproductive rights, equal pay, etc). It then engages with a historical paradox: the phenomenon of backlash before feminism. Rejecting the political in favour of the personal was compatible with psycho-sexual dynamics already in progress – these were a defence against the intrusiveness of state involved in building a deeply conservative private sphere. The article then moves onto an examination of the present deadlock between the Catholic church, the post-communist government and the women’s movement. Key Words: third wave feminism, Poland, activism * * * As a Polish feminist, writer and academic, I find it somewhat amusing when well- meaning Westerners, on their two-day stop in the Pope’s homeland, voice their concern that, surely, feminism cannot exist in my country, because “you are all so deeply conservative, aren’t you?” and “so very Catholic.” The truth is that Polish feminism can and does exist, though it is often tormented by self-doubt. As a movement – cultural, political and intellectual – it is growing in numbers and becoming radicalized by the hour. Quite possibly, we are on the verge of something new, something beyond the familiar paths of Polish gender politics, something that resists the chronology of “waves” used to describe feminist movements in the West. The aim of this paper is to explore the complexities of this cultural moment in the context of expectations implicit in the wave metaphor, as well as those written into Poland’s national mythology. When Drag Queens Dress Up as Bishops In the fall of 1996, Pelnym Glosem [In Full Voice], the sole feminist periodical published in Poland at the time, featured a lively debate on the existence – or rather non- existence – of feminism in Poland. Most of the contributors, including myself, claimed that seven years after the dawn of democracy no feminist consciousness, and certainly no women’s movement, could be detected in our culture. There may be a few feminists, we agreed, but they are isolated and largely ignored. We cited historical, psychological and economic explanations for this sorry state of affairs; the tone of the debate was in turns cynical, resigned and mournful. One contributor suggested hopefully that Polish feminism existed in a nascent and apolitical form: namely, the belief, secretly cherished by many Polish women, in their superiority over men, whom they perceive as childlike and incompetent (Wegierek 6). Another woman countered that this supposed “proto- Journal of International Women’s Studies Vol 4 #2 April 2003 100 feminist” consciousness was nothing more than a compensatory mechanism typical of oppressive patriarchal cultures (Uminska 15). A third writer announced that the whole debate was pointless, because Poland – along with other Eastern European, Latin American and Asian countries – had simply missed the feminist boat. Women in these cultures, she argued, never developed a group identity, never realized they were discriminated against, never questioned their loyalty to the family as an institution (Limanowska 13). Only two contributors, both of them editors of the journal, claimed that Polish feminism did in fact exist, though even they agreed that it could hardly be called a movement (Walczewska, “Feminizm?” 25; Kozak 29). My own argument at the time relied on a liberal account of the absence of feminism – one I would be much more wary of today. I claimed that resistance to feminism was in fact an extension of Polish culture’s profound distrust of individualism. Anti-feminism, I believed, comes out of a herd ethic which precludes the rise of ideologies grounded in such values as human autonomy, self-determination and risk-taking (Graff, “Feminizm” 21). A few years earlier a similar argument had been presented by the sociologist Mira Marody in a provocative paper called “Why I Am Not a Feminist.” Marody had claimed that the formation of identities (including gender identities) in Polish culture takes place in the context of familial collectivism, and is determined by a collectivist moral orientation which favors consensus and harmony over independence and autonomy (more or less what I called a “herd ethic” in my 1996 essay). Within such a culture, feminism is a priori perceived as alien and threatening. An interesting corrective to this argument was later proposed by Ewa Sidorenko, who suggests that the missing “ingredient” in Polish culture is not so much individualism as “associability,” i.e. an explicit collectivist orientation, a willingness to work with and for others, for people who are not members of our family. Such an attitude is associated with modern politics. Decades of state socialism, claims Sidorenko, have produced insular identities firmly rooted in values associated with the home, family and religion – i.e. the private sphere. This “retraditionalisation” occurred because the family provided a safe haven from the omnipresent, corrupt and intrusive communist public sphere. “Polish anti-feminism can be linked to a specific anti-modern dynamic of communism which prevents the emergence of various social identities whilst, at the same time constituting a form of individualism which is anti-political in its orientation” (Sidorenko 4). If I cite these arguments, it is not only because I find them insightful, but also because they seem oddly dated. They all provide explanations for a phenomenon which, in my view, is fast becoming history – that is, Polish culture’s immunity to feminist discourse and consciousness. It is amusing to re-read these essays and wonder what such a debate would be like today. All but one of the contributors of the Pelnym Glosem exchange in 1996 are now activists of something that even right wing media reluctantly refer to as a “women’s movement.” Whatever one’s definition of feminism (and we argue over definitions no less than our Western sisters do), there is no doubt that it does exist in today’s Poland. It is a social movement, a style of thinking, a media debate, a much ridiculed stereotype, a “fashionable” topic in women’s magazines, as well as a thriving academic field. There are several gender studies programs (Warsaw, Kraków, Lódz) as well as dozens of women’s centers and NGOs. There are countless discussion circles, workshops, self-defense classes, a nation-wide coalition for bringing women into politics, a feminist bookshop on the web, a group called Ulica Siostrzana [“Sister Street”] Journal of International Women’s Studies Vol 4 #2 April 2003 101 organizing summer camps for women, and a feminist theater collective. There are feminist street demonstrations attended by hundreds, and recently even thousands, of supporters, and feminist conferences to choose from almost every month. We have five feminist magazines ranging from the academic to the popular, as well as innumerable zines, websites and organizational bulletins. Last, but not least, there is a long list of feminist books on topics from women’s literary history to politics – books numerous and popular enough to have triggered the appearance of shelves marked “gender” or “women” in many bookshops. We exist – there is no doubt about it. And yet, ironically enough, for many Polish women feminist identity begins with writing an essay or taking part in a conversation of which the basic assumption is that “Polish feminism” is an oxymoron. Obviously, in 1996 we were simply wrong in our pessimism. And perhaps we had to be, having grounded our diagnoses and predictions in a firm belief that, where gender relations are concerned, mentality would not be affected by political and economic change. In fact, the years since 1989 have brought profound changes in values and attitudes, and, arguably, gender relations and women’s attitudes underwent some of the deepest changes. In 1993, Marody explained why she was not a feminist, describing herself as ideology- proof and Polish culture in general as incurably family-oriented. In 2000, the same sociologist co-authored a text which tells an entirely different story. “Changing Images of Identity in Poland: From the Self-Sacrificing to the Self-Investing Woman?” is a provocative study based on a comparative analysis of women’s magazines from before and after the transition to democracy. Marody and Anna Giza Poleszczuk conclude that the old model of the Polish woman as “brave victim” (the long-suffering mother, who devotes her entire life to her family) has given way to the ideal of a “self-investing woman” (a professional with a strong sense of personal autonomy).